


Harmony

by 852_Prospect_Archivist



Category: The Sentinel
Genre: M/M, None - Freeform, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-10
Updated: 2013-05-10
Packaged: 2017-12-11 09:18:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,087
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/796533
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/852_Prospect_Archivist/pseuds/852_Prospect_Archivist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Written for the Sentinel_Thursday challenge of "music."  Jim asks Blair to slow dance.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Harmony

## Harmony

by reetchick

Not my property, intellectual or otherwise. More's the pity.

The greatest of thanks to CJ, Kimberly, and Laura for helping me wield the sticks to beat this unruly mess into something readable. Kisses to Alee and Rhiannon Jehane, too - just because.

* * *

Back when I actually _went_ on expeditions, the one thing I missed was long, hot showers. It's a ritual of sorts, an experience. The towels are, of course, a big part of that. I can make do with one (actually, I can make do with none), but I prefer three. Yeah, indulgent, I know. 

And yes, spending a night at home with Jim is enough to make me feel indulgent, thank you very much. 

I step out of the bathroom, greeted by silence instead of the smart-ass remark I was expecting. 

Jim is standing at the CD player, rifling through our collection. I can tell he's deciding between two choices by the way he hesitates over a certain spot. 

I pause for a moment to admire the view. He's freshly showered, too - he had dibs - and his towel is slung low around his hips. I couldn't tell you how many times I've seen this man in various states of undress over the past six years, but I never miss an opportunity to ogle. To be frank, I can't imagine that will ever change. 

He puts in his selection and turns to face me. Eyes raking over my non-traditional attire, he grins and mutters something that sounds like 'nice outfit.' 

I return his smile as I move to head up the stairs to grab some clothes. As the music he picked fills the room, I stop in my tracks. The song is slow and mellow, heavy with low bass. It's damned close to aural seduction, and he _knows_ what that does to me. 

I nod slowly, as if I'm deliberating over his choice. "If I didn't know you any better, Ellison, I'd be tempted to call this mood music." 

He cocks one eyebrow. "Yeah," he mock-grumbles. "Because _that's_ my style." 

"Ooh," I challenge, "now you have a style. Good to know, man, good to know." 

He shrugs, and I can see him fighting down a grin. "You got a problem with me having a style, Sandburg?" 

I attempt a casual pose. "Hey, not at all, not at all. I mean, not so long as it doesn't affect me personally." 

Jim folds his lips inward, pretending to mull this over. "That might be a problem, then, Chief." 

"What do you mean, problem? How is _your_ style _my_ problem?" 

"I think if affects you personally if I ask you to dance." 

Even after years together, my heart still skips a beat when he looks at me like that. I take a moment to revel in the fact that I'm secure enough in this relationship to take the time to tease a little bit. Not too long ago, I'd have tripped over myself leaping into his arms. "So, um. Are you asking me to dance?" 

He looks around the room in an exaggerated fashion. "I don't see anybody else here I'd be talking to." 

I bite my tongue to keep from snickering. "Okay, okay," I concede. "Good point. But, uh, tell me." I tip my head down, the better to look up at him through shower-dampened eyelashes. "What makes you think I'll say yes?" 

He reaches out and gently tugs at a lock of hair that's fallen from the towel. I'm mesmerized as he caresses the strand, then slowly moves his hands up to gently separate me from the terrycloth. In atypical fashion, he lets it fall to the floor and stay there. 

God, I love this man. 

I'm standing near enough that I can practically feel his voice vibrating through the air. "I think you'll do it because you're that kind of guy." 

I suck in a breath, trying to compose myself, wanting the moment to last a bit longer. "I don't know, man," I frown. "Don't you think slow dancing is...kind of a queer thing to do?" 

And, dammit, in the space of an instant I know I've taken it too far. See, that's the big problem with being in love with a guy who has an ass-load of emotional issues - you never know when your frolic through a patch of daisies is going to veer into tripping through a field of land mines. 

My heart jerks as I watch the shadows of all the women I've been with flicker across his face. He knows that's changed now - now it's just him for me, forever. I _know_ he knows that. 

But he's changed, too. I can see it in the way he stuffs his first reaction down, in the way he tries to keep the mood light. 

He's moving his mouth, struggling to fire off a snappy comeback, but I drop the act and take him in my arms. 

"C'mon, babe, you know I was just yanking your chain. I'm sorry." My hand traces soothing lines over his back. "I'm sorry." 

I can feel him nestling his face in my hair, taking deep, calming breaths. "I know," he whispers. "I'm trying to know." 

I wrap my hand around the back of his neck, moving back so I can look into his eyes. "You know," I say conversationally, "generally it's best not to take the homophobic crack seriously when it comes out of the same mouth that was wrapped around your dick not even half an hour ago." 

I thank every higher being I know as his face relaxes into a lazy grin. "You've got a point, there, you little cocksucker." 

His relief is nearly palpable. My head thrown back, I laugh, long and full. He draws me close again, his hands making a brief detour to divest us both of assorted towels, and we begin to dance. 

I savor the feeling of my face against his bare chest, loving the way my lips graze against his skin as I softly protest. "Who said you got to lead, Ellison?" 

One big hand smacks me on the ass in answer. "This would be the _only_ time I get to lead in this relationship. Now shut up and dance." 

So we do. 

* * *

End Harmony by reetchick: daga8922@cox.net

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